I hate to repeat myself, but I'd also like to stay outta trouble. Disclaimer hasn't changed.

I.11. These Are Not Two Years Old

Her voice small and muffled by his chest she asked, "Where'd you do it?" She looked up at him. Once again her voice startled him.

"Geez, Neela, I thought you were asleep."

"Oh. Sorry."

"'S ok…My arm for a while, until I realized that was dumb…"

"Your arm? You're always wearing sleeveless shirts…how could I not have seen it?"

"Seen my tattoos?"

"Oh."

"If you look closely you can see they're covering up something…"

"So after that?"

"My hipbone."

"Can I see?"

He rolled onto his back and she sat up, thereby pulling the covers back. She watched as he hooked his thumb under the waistline of his sweatpants and pulled them down a few inches.

Aww, his bunny boxers. The absurdity of that catching her attention made her face blush slightly. Then she focused back on his body.

"Shit, Ray…" she looked back up at his face. "I'm sorry, that's not what I should have said."

"'S alright" he shrugged and let the elastic snap back into place. Neela pulled it back down, and traced over the scars with her fingers. Some looked really old and about as healed as they would get, others looked more recent, but they were still mostly healed.

Still gliding her fingers over the skin, she didn't look at him, but started asking him questions. "When'd you start?"

"Sophomore year in high school." Then added with a smirk, "that year sucked all around."

"When did you stop?"

"Soon after I started at County."

"Why?"

"'Cause I met people who cared about me, who were good people, like Carter…Pratt…Kovac…Abby. But mostly…because…I met you." Her eyes snapped up to his, then fell back to her hands on his hipbone.

Nice Ray, how else do you think you can scare her? How about you go all out, and profess your undying love for her? Or perhaps tell her about the one she is about to find anyway?

Well, shit! What am I supposed to say to that? "I don't know what to say, Ray." Yeah, that wasn't it…anything else but that…

Say that you'll stop.

"You don't need to say anything…"

She continued tracing his scars slowly moving across his body. She got to his other hip bone and stopped. There were several cuts that were not new, but certainly not fully healed. She guessed they were a few weeks old. Moving much slower she dragged her finger across these marks leading her to a long slash. It was obviously very new—red, and inflamed, irritated from rubbing on the waistband of his pants. Her mind flashed back to when they were in the bathroom and Ray pulled his towel up so quickly. It suddenly became very clear.

This has got to be less than a week old.

That one. She found it, now what are you going to do?

"Ray," she was whispering and had turned her eyes back to his face, "you've been working at County for almost two years. These are not two years old." She kept moving her fingers back and forth along the newest mark, but kept her eyes on his.

"Yeah. Right. No, they're not."

She raised her eyebrows, in effect repeating the implied question. He just looked at her. After a few minutes, he took a deep breath and averting his eyes answered her question, almost inaudibly.

"When you got married. I stayed at the hospital that night, in the doctor's lounge." He paused. "It was too easy." He again breathed deeply. "And then I thought it was over. I'd stop again. Until Michael left. I couldn't stand to see you so sad, but be useless to you."

It's because of you, Neela. You made him do it.

She slowly let the elastic pull the waistline into place, and pulled his chin up to return his gaze to her face. Neither one of them knew what to say. Neither one could read all the emotions in the other one's eyes. So they just looked at each other. After a few minutes she lay back down, and pulled his arm back around her waist, and he squeezed her up against his body again. There was silence for a long time. It could have been awkward, but somehow, it wasn't.